you’re gone andyour unfinished poemlies alone on my desk—empty of tears,I only hope it rains today — John J. Geddes
you’re gone andyour unfinished poemlies alone on my desk—empty of tears,I only hope it rains today — John J. Geddes
you’re gone andyour unfinished poemlies alone on my desk—empty of tears,I only hope it rains today — John J. Geddes
you’re gone andyour unfinished poemlies alone on my desk—empty of tears,I only hope it rains today — John J. Geddes
you’re gone andyour unfinished poemlies alone on my desk—empty of tears,I only hope it rains today — John J. Geddes
Download Customize

you’re gone andyour unfinished poemlies alone on my desk—empty of tears,I only hope it rains today

— John J. Geddes
Pin Share Tweet Telegram
Topics
longing unrequited love yearning for lost love

More “Longing” Quotes

I synonymously felt my heart beat rapaciously, the heart which was once void of anything alive and well. Now the heart w — Diyar Harraz, Like The Starlings
I could tell he was just as scared to love as I, But we still both carelessly climbed into eachothers arms and before we — Nikki Rowe
One's longing is not so much there for sense-gratification, profit and self-preservation, instead one's karma is there f — Ramesh Menon, Bhagavata Purana
Do you really know yourself so well or are you making it up?' she asks. Some things I concoct, some I glean from my sens — Erri De Luca, Tre cavalli
What's the use in prolonging life if you don't do anything with it? — A.J. Darkholme, Rise of the Morningstar
You have to understand that only the very worst end up here: the ones whose anger made them kill, and who felt no sorrow — John Connolly
We can't stop reading. Compulsively we find ourselves reading significance into dreams (we construct a science upon it); — Michael Frayn, Constructions
A mixture, before the English, of irritation and bafflement, of having this same language, same past, so many same thing — John Fowles, The Magus
I miss my old life — Richard C. Morais, The Hundred-Foot Journey
The past is devoid of meaning like the present, and a refuge for cowards. — E.M. Forster, Maurice
Sufre mas el que espera siempreque aquel que nunca espero a nadie?Does he who is always waiting suffer more than he who’ — Pablo Neruda, The Book of Questions
His hatred for all was so intense that it should extinguish the very love from which it was conceived. And thus, he ceas — Ashim Shanker, Only the Deplorable